


Nothing Left

by TheEeveeTamer



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: (Very Briefly) Mentioned Self-Harm, Aphrodisiacs, As a result of those withdrawal symptoms, Basically demonic beast cum is an aphrodisiac, Breeding, Chains, Collars, Come Inflation, Crest Beast Dedue, Demonic Beast Dedue, Established Relationship, Happy...ish Ending, Hopeful Ending, Hopeful ending sounds good, Implied Mpreg, Implied Non-Consensual Drug Use, M/M, Monsterfucking, More explicitly happy ending now, Mpreg, Post CF Canon, Protective Dedue, Self Lubricating Monster Cocks, TWSITD Using Monsterfucking to Experiment with Demonic Beast Breeding, Withdrawal Symptoms, shapeshifting half crest beastie babies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:09:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27253204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheEeveeTamer/pseuds/TheEeveeTamer
Summary: Dimitri finds himself in a twisted experiment.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Dedue Molinaro
Comments: 6
Kudos: 95
Collections: FE3H Monsterfucking Weekend 2020





	1. Chapter 1

He wasn’t dead.

Dimitri’s eyes narrowed in the dim light of the dungeons below Fhirdiad’s castle.

That shouldn’t be possible. He remembered the battle at Tailtean, the water soaking his hair, the sodden furs on his back weighing his shoulders down with the burden of his loss, of what it meant for his people. He remembered Edelgard standing over his body, hideous spiked axe held high over his neck. He remembered the world going black—that must have been it, right? The moment he’d died?

Yet here he was, in a damp, freezing cold cell, naked and bound to the wall by a flimsy chain welded to a metal collar around his neck.

These were certainly Fhridaid’s dungeons, though they appeared to be slightly modified. His cell was, in reality, three of the larger cells with the walls between them knocked down to create one space. For what purpose was still unclear to him, the royal treatment, perhaps?

He laughed bitterly to himself. This was certainly the type of humiliation he would expect to endure at the hands of the Empire.

He wrapped the chain once around his fist and tugged, but it did not break. It rattled incessantly as he pulled harder and harder, increasingly desperate to snap the darn thing and escape. The joints of the walls didn’t seem very solid after the demolition, there were loose bricks and crumbling cement everywhere, if he could just get free then maybe he could force his way out… but it was no use. His tether must have been reinforced with magic, or perhaps he was just very, very weak from his injuries.

Or perhaps he was wrong about being alive. Perhaps this was hell, or the waiting room for it, and the only thing left to do was wait for the Goddess to render her divine punishment.

“I see you’re finally awake.”

He scrambled to stand, but the chain did not have enough give for him to rise to his full height. He ended up in an awkward half-crouch, glaring in defiance at the new arrival. He’d been too busy rattling his chains to hear her approach.

Cornelia entered his cell, leading one of the masked monsters he’d faced down on the plains along behind her. Not one of her own, surely. It was collared and chained as well, likely bound by the same magic he was to prevent its escape.

It wasn’t behaving normally, either. It was twitching and agitated. The sound of its metal mask scraping against stone rung in his ears like nails across a chalkboard. The space was far too small for the three of them, and when the beast passed through the door in the iron bars the heat emanating off of its soft underbelly seared his skin. It wasn’t quite as hot Ailell in his full armor, but it evoked the same feeling, as if his body was cooking from the inside out.

The creature seemed especially preoccupied with him. It whined and squirmed, twisting and banging its tail against the bars as it approached. Metal clanged against stone, the tips of the mask nearly impaling his chest as the creature jammed its nose into his body. Soft puffs of air brushed over his bare nipples, sending a most unwelcome jolt of pleasure straight down his spine.

“You witch!” he snarled at Cornelia, trying to remain intimidating despite the goosebumps prickling his skin, making the hair on his arms stand at attention. The beast slowly dragged it’s metal mask down his body, careful now not to skewer him, over his chest and toward his stomach. He brought his knees together to hide himself as the warm breaths of air touched his cock.

Cornelia had died at Arianrhod, along with Felix and Ingrid. At least, that’s what he’d thought. If she was alive then that meant she’d tricked them all; she’d been working for the Empire the entire time. He’d have her head for that.

“Spare me the dramatics. Is that any way to greet someone at such a happy reunion?”

“Reunion?” he asked, struggling to keep the thread of the conversation as the monster’s tongue slithered out from behind its teeth to lick his neck.

She gestured to the beast.

It grunted now, frustrated as Dimitri tried to shove its head away from his body to get a better look. It had been dark, and rainy, and he’d been fighting. Blood in his eyes, soldiers surrounding him on all sides... he hadn’t gotten a good look at the beast that emerged in his husband’s place. He’d just known it happened. Heard his impassioned cries from across the field…  _ My love. My one and only. _ And then he’d heard his distorted, inhuman screams of agony when the imperial army’s blades pierced his scales.

No, this couldn’t be Dedue. That… that wasn’t possible. Dedue was–

“I’ll leave you two alone.”

She stepped outside without another word, and the metal bars clanged shut behind her.

He studied the beast again. Just there, under the mask… the big ugly scar on his lower lip… did the beasts retain their human scars? How else would the beast have gotten it, with its metal cage helmet on? He… He’d survived, hadn’t he? Why couldn’t Dedue as well?

Tears welled up in his eyes. No, surely this must be hell. Only those that reveled in the eternal flames could come up with a punishment so cruel for him.

“Dedue I–”

The beast didn’t let him finish. It finally used the strange shape of its mask to its advantage, hooking one point behind his back and twisting its head suddenly to flip him over onto his hands and knees.

It stung. One hand went to his side, vision dancing when his fingers came back stained red.

This thing was not Dedue. It couldn’t have been. Dedue would never hurt him.

The beast forced his chest to the ground by slamming a paw on his back, just below his neck. Dimitri’s head smacked on the stones on the way down, vision going black for a moment and coming back to him all at once, his head spinning.

He winced in pain, rib cage rattling in his chest with every breath as he waited for the ache to subside, but the creature did not pause to wait for him to recover. Something long and slick pressed at his raised backside, pulsing and hot against his skin.

“S-stop!”

He shuddered. Was it… a tongue? No, it wasn’t flexible enough to be tongue. The beast rocked against his body, sliding its appendage between his cheeks and leaving him slick, hot, panting, desperate. He tried to regain composure, to think, but his head was turning up empty, his mind floating a mile away.

Then it retracted, leaving only the tip rubbing against his backside. Was this all some sort of taunt? Was it over? Then, with a mighty roar, the beast rocked its hips forward and filled him suddenly, completely.

Dimitri’s entire body shuddered and fell limp as the creature forced the entire thing inside of him. His body did not break or tear, but it burned. His stomach felt as if it were full of molten lava. He tried to lift his head up, to plead it to stop, but his eyes were glazed and unfocused, a bit of drool dribbling down the side of his mouth as he screamed in silent agony.

The creature pulled back, each ridge of its cock tugging at his insides as it removed all but the tip, and then slammed inside of him all at once. His fingers scrabbled against the stones, fingernails soiled with dirt as he desperately tried to pull himself away from the beast. It did not slow or stop, its consideration for him whittled down to nothing as his knees scraped bloody and his body rocked forward with its thrusts.

And then it got worse.

It started to feel good.

Dimitri bit his arm to suppress the moan that threatened to slip from his lips, as if the pain could cancel out the pleasure slowly pooling in the pit of his stomach. He didn’t know where his captors were, but he had a feeling they were watching. He didn’t want them to know that he was enjoying this.

No,  _ enjoying  _ was not the right word. Tolerating. It was pleasurable, but he was not enjoying himself. He told himself that as the beast thrust into him again and he felt his cock twitch to life between his legs. He shifted, tense, uncomfortable, desperately trying to keep his hands away from himself to relieve the tension, but it was a losing battle. Pain brought him back, but only for a moment. There were only brief flashes of clarity before the beast’s slick cock took him again, his entire mind went fuzzy, and his whole focus returned to the throbbing between his legs.

His hand drifted down to stroke his half hard cock to its full length, timing his pumps to the rhythm of the beast. His skin was burning now, his fingers numb from the sensation overload. He muffled his scream in his arm as he came. Yet the beast did not stop. His orgasm only seemed to spur it on, and the rougher and faster the thrusts grew the less Dimitri needed to touch himself to achieve that sweet high. Soon his hand fell limply back to his side, body too exhausted to even touch himself as he waited for the beast to finish. He tensed and tightened and snapped until he was orgasming dry, kneeling in a puddle of his own spend.

The beast pushed inside of him with a roar, and whatever pain tolerance Dimitri thought he’d built up was put to the limits as the creature’s cum filled his body, stretching his stomach until it dragged on the floor.

Dimitri used up what little strength he had left desperately trying to scramble off of the creature’s knot, to alleviate the pressure building in his body. Surely he was going to burst, and what a humiliating way to go. Perhaps that’s what his captors wanted, why they’d kept him alive long after he should have perished.

The beast rumbled against his back… purring? Do the beasts purr? A long tongue slithered past its teeth, past the mask, to swipe an appreciative lick along his back. Slowly he relaxed, and the knot slid out of him with hardly any trouble.

Pushing himself upright was a futile endeavor; he could hardly make it to his knees before collapsing back onto his hands. The chain rattled as he struggled to retain some semblance of his dignity. He pushed on his swollen stomach to try and alleviate the pressure, but to his dismay it did not help. Not a single drop spilled out of him.

He collapsed back onto his side, too exhausted even to hold himself up on his hands and knees.

A few of Cornelia’s lackeys entered the cell then and reached for the beasts’s chain leash, but it backed away with surprising speed, back slamming against the wall of the cell and sending a shower of loose stone and dust down onto its back. It stood with its two front paws on either side of his head, and crouched low over his body so its soft underbelly was brushing against his shoulder. A low snarl ripped through the room as the men made another grab for its leash, vibrating Dimitri’s bones.

It was hard to see around the creature’s paws, but one of the men procured a tome. A flash of bright light and the beast whimpered, subdued, and allowed them to drag it away from his cell. With the beast gone, the other lackey rolled him over onto his back and prodded his legs apart. Dimitri opened them eagerly for him, desperate for anything to relieve the pressure in his belly. 

Two fingers invaded him harshly, probing at him, as the man bent down to get a better look at his abused, aching hole. His other hand went flat on his belly and pushed gently as he scissored him open, a rather trivial task given what his body had just endured, before retracting completely, leaving him whimpering and full of the creature’s cum.

_ It’s taking much better than expected. _

* * *

The days were beginning to grow hazy.

Was it two, or perhaps three days since it’d happened? He’d hoped that his head would clear when the beast left his cell, but he had been wrong. Each day seemed like it was moving all too fast and yet all too slow. His body grew used to the pressure in his stomach, until all at once it was gone. Whatever kept the beast’s seed inside of him popped, and it spilled out between his fingers as he desperately squirmed and tried to keep it inside.

His head… it wasn’t working properly. Just days ago he’d been desperate for this very thing, but now here he was. Scrambling to plug himself up so that comforting pressure would remain.

The guards watching over his cell ran off quickly, and within the hour the beast was with him again. This time it did not need to force him to his hands and knees. He rolled himself over, stuck his ass high in the air, and shivered in sweet anticipation as the beast slid it’s massive, slick cock against his ass.

He slid his hand between his legs, scooping the slick, warm substance left behind by the creature’s cock, and pushed his own wet fingers inside of himself. The beast was preparing him, but there was only so much it could do on its own. He would help it along, at least if it was going to take him again then perhaps it would not hurt so much this time.

The beast growled in approval and a pleased shiver ran down his spine. He braced his arms against the floor and he waited.

After that Dimitri lived in three states: bred, waiting to be bred, and limp and twitching with ecstasy. By the tenth repetition of this cycle he’d stopped counting. It was unimportant. Routine. And his brain could no longer conceive of numbers, anyways. The days bled into weeks bled into months bled into years, possibly, he wasn’t really sure. There was no way to know.

Then something strange happened.

He woke just like any other day, used to the hard ground, wrapped tightly in his warm but soiled fur blanket. The seal keeping him pregnant with the beast’s seed broke and his captors came into the room to check on him.

They turned him onto his back and he spread his legs eagerly. After the pain and the probing they would bring the beast back in. Just a little pain to endure before his reward. Except the beast did not come. His captors muttered amongst themselves briefly and left the door to his cage open behind them, speaking in hushed, excited tones.

They did not bring the beast.

He curled on the ground, body hot and shivering all at once. Sweat soaked through the blanket that reeked of the beast’s scent, his only comfort. He rubbed against it, trying to simulate the feeling of the beast’s stomach on his back. He shoved his fingers inside of himself to try and mimic its thick cock taking him… but it was useless. Nothing could compare to the beast.

“Please,” he begged, crawling as far toward the door of his cell as he was permitted, trying to reach the immovable guard there, “please bring me the beast.”

The guard paid him no mind.

* * *

Several days passed. No beast.

He thought his head had been overloaded before, now it was empty. There was nothing, no feeling, no satisfaction. Nothing but craving for the beast. He whined, he screamed, he begged, nothing happened. He’d only had the guard intercede once, when he’d started slamming his hands and his head against the wall until they bled. It was all he had the energy for. Now he just lay prone, shaking, trying his hardest not to puke as his stomach churned in a way quite unlike anything he had ever experienced before.

The closest he got to satisfaction was when the mages came into his cell and prodded his body with their hands. And he hoped beyond hope that each one would end with the reintroduction of the beast, but it never came.

Then one day the mages did not come. Even the guards did not come. Instead he woke up to the ground shaking, bars and chains alike rattling. An earthquake..? No, more like something large and heavy was tearing its way through the dungeons.

The beast emerged from around the corner, metal tusk and claws soaked in blood. It hooked it’s nose through the bars of his cell and twisted, tearing them straight from where they were bolted into the ground and throwing them to the side as if it had just torn through paper.

All Dimitri could form in response was an excited little groan. He turned to his hands and knees and presented himself, legs already quivering in anticipation of being bred again. It had been so long, too long, he was losing his mind.

The beast approached behind him, but instead of slithering its tongue out to prepare him, it slammed its paw down right above his head. The chain tore out of the wall, raining dust and small debris down on Dimitri’s head.

It all happened too fast for him to comprehend. The beast picked him up in its jaws, careful not to pierce or hurt him with its sharp teeth, but struggling because the metal mask used to keep its face prisoner only allowed it to open its jaw so much, and twisted to place him on its back. Dimitri clung to it for dear life as the creature bowed its head and used the metal like a battering ram to tear through the already weakened stone walls.

It carried him up through the castle, trodding on dead soldiers and scientists alike, and out deep into the forest surrounding Fhirdiad, far, far away from their prison.

* * *

He woke up several days later, hazy but cognizant. He was naked but for a disgusting, thick fur blanket draped over his body, but he was not cold. Most of the warmth he felt seemed to come from under him. He was lying on a smooth, flat expanse that was hot to the touch, hot enough that steam rose around it in the cold Faerghian air.

The details of what happened between Tailtean and then were lost to him, but the general idea came back to him slowly, piece by piece. This was real, he was alive, and Dedue…

Dedue.

The creature he was lying on top of— _ Dedue _ —grunted in his sleep.

“Oh Dedue…” he whispered, stroking his belly gently with his hand, “you fool…”

This beast was Dedue, it had to be. The long, diagonal scar cutting across his underbelly was enough for him to know. He knew that scar well, the one he’d gotten protecting him as they fled Garreg Mach so many years ago. He’d touched it more times than he could count, from smearing healing salve to caressing it late at night in their bedroom to idle touches in the bath. He caressed it now, too, the ridges, so unfamiliar yet so comforting on this new body, bringing his mind back to the present.

He still had the chain and collar around his neck, but whatever magic they’d been imbued with was long gone, and they were nothing more than flimsy, thin pieces of metal. He easily twisted and snapped them off of his neck and dropped them over Dedue’s side to the ground.

In an instant Dedue had them rolled over, so Dimitri was flat on the ground between Dedue’s paws. The soft  _ thunk  _ as they hit the dirt had been enough to wake his husband. An angry snarl was on his lips, and Dimitri didn’t have to see it to know his eyes were scanning the horizon through the tiny slits carved out of his cage.

Dimitri hiccuped, caught halfway between a laugh and a sob. This was Dedue.

He crawled out from under him, clutching the blanket around his shoulders to keep himself decent.

“It was just me, my love. It was just me.”

Slowly Dedue’s hackles fell. His tail still swished, on edge, looking for the enemy, but his posture relaxed.

Dimitri placed his hands on either side of the mask, bringing his forehead to rest against it. He could hardly see through the tears.

“Would…” he paused for a moment, too choked up to continue. “... Would you like me to remove this for you?”

Dedue grunted, head shifting up and down just slightly in a nod.

“Okay…” he whispered weakly. “Lie down.”

Dedue flopped onto his side, head resting against the dirt. Dimitri braced his hands on either side of the jaw opening, fingers brushing against sharp teeth, where the flimsy joint allowed the metal to give just enough for Dedue to open his mouth. He pried until it cracked and fell away, then he had Dedue flip over and he repeated the process on the other side.

Dedue rammed his snout into his stomach as soon as he was free, bumping his head against him and marking him with his scent like a cat. It hit him straight in the gut. Dedue’s bright green eyes were still his own, still full of life, but sunken and guarded by black scales, the pupil a snake-like slit.

Dimitri brought his hands up to cup the sides of his snout, just like he had cupped his cheeks when Dedue had still been human.

“I am sorry, my love. If I had been stronger… Perhaps I could have saved you from this fate.”

He shook his head, bumping his nose against him again.  _ I chose this for myself. To protect you. _

“I know you did. I… I know, Dedue.”

He sighed, looking back behind him, as if Fhirdiad were still right there waiting. But he knew better. There was no Fhirdiad any longer. He couldn’t remember the state of the town as they’d escaped, he’d been too far gone, but he felt it in his bones.

“There is nothing left for us there, is there?”

Dedue shook his head.

When Dimitri looked back again, he grunted. As if saying,  _ and it would be pointless to try. _

The city was gone. He was but one man, nowhere near enough to reclaim the whole thing by himself.

He absently stroked Dedue’s snout, his sweet husband purring at the affection.

“Then we move on, I suppose.”


	2. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright I'm gonna add this to the tags but basically: in my head demonic beast cum grants some anti-aging and lifespan benefits (similar to how Jeralt's life is extended by Rhea's blood in canon), Dimitri can get pregnant because *handwavey beast cum/crest explanation*, and all the Dimidue babies are beast-human hybrids that can shape shift between human and beast forms at will because I thought it'd be cool.

He went down the mountain sometimes. It could be hard to gauge the passage of time up there, isolated in the hills as they were. He couldn’t remember what he’d looked like during the war, but he had a feeling that he hadn’t changed much since. He could try to count the years by the changing of nature, but after so long the many passing seasons bled into each other until the year was but an unrecognizable mass of days, some warmer, some colder. So instead he marked the passage of time by the growth of his hair, and each time he went down the mountain he cut it with a dull dagger so it would look at least a little presentable.

Today would be one of those days, it seemed. He slid on his boots and made it half a step outside before his feet were soaked through with mud and puddle water. So he slid back into their cave and, ignoring five sets of disapproving stares, dug through his sloppily carved little dresser looking for the knife.

They all knew what that meant, and he knew none of them liked it. The little ones, especially. Three of them—difficult to tell apart in their beast forms—milled about his legs and tried to block his way as he walked down to the river.

He unsheathed the knife and brought it up to his face, ready to saw off his nearly waist-length hair at the chin, when the littlest one shoved her snout up under his elbow in an attempt to knock the blade away. While he was distracted, her brother snuck up behind him and grabbed the blade in his jaws.

“Hey! Shoo, you guys know this is dangerous!” he snatched the knife away from them again, and gently tapped each of them on the nose to ensure his message got across. All three bowed their heads, thoroughly chastised, and quickly scampered away into the woods.

“Don’t go too far!” he called after them, trying to push down that little seed of worry taking root in his stomach. Perhaps he was being too overbearing. They were getting older now, and Goddess they were half beast! Of course they wanted to explore… at least, that’s what Dedue kept conveying to him.

But he needed to focus on this task. He couldn’t waste too much time making himself presentable or the sun would go down, and he would either need to wait until tomorrow or risk getting caught in town and being forced to stay the night.

Just as he was finishing up the ground shook in that familiar, comforting way, and Dedue sat beside him pensively as he cut the last strands. He was watching, and by the way his tail swished, it was his usual brand of silent disapproval.

“I’ll be fine, Dedue!” he stood, slotting the knife in his belt, and stroked Dedue’s snout.

His husband gave a disgruntled little snort in response.

“I know, but I need new boots… again. I know you do not like it when I go around barefoot, right?”

Another snort.  _ Fine, but I don’t have to like it,  _ he almost seemed to say. Dimitri chuckled.

“Make sure the children do not get into any trouble while I’m gone.”

There really was nothing for his husband to worry about; he never strayed too far from home. They’d taken up residence in Count Rowe’s—or what used to be Count Rowe’s—territory. It was hard to keep track of the land’s name when petty squabbles and wars and rebellions had them changing hands so many times.

It had been dangerous at first. The Empire might not have known he was alive, but a man so closely resembling Faerghus’s fallen king was sure to raise eyebrows. But then a decade, or two, or maybe ten passed, and when the Empire had faded from everyone’s memories and the rumors that their former Tempest King survived became a mere absurdity it was safe for him to walk among them again.

Sometimes he didn’t stay long. There was some conflict or squabble and he knew Dedue would be displeased if he got caught up in it, willingly or no. Sometimes he stayed for a while, the kindness of strangers keeping him fed and housed as he picked up what little information he could about the world on the outside.

And oh, how that world had changed. He’d seen cycles of famine and pestilence, he’d seen cycles of revolution and peace, of advancement and regression. The weapons had changed the most. Humans (for could he really call himself that, any longer?) had traded in the lances and swords that were so familiar to him for strange metal contraptions. Like ballistae—in that they could launch projectiles—but louder and faster and smaller and far, far more deadly. Frankly, they frightened him, and he tried to avoid them whenever possible.

The trek down the mountain was quiet and slow. Not a single passerby, which wasn’t at all uncommon. The townspeople seemed to be under the impression that the mountain was cursed. The town, too, was quiet and empty when he arrived. Most of the windows shuttered, and the few people on the streets scuttered about with their heads down and their shoulders tense. 

It seemed they were entering another time of revolution, then. He would recognize that unease anywhere. Unfortunately, that meant it would take much longer for him to do what he’d come to town for. Each time he came down the mountain the town was different. Larger and more sprawling than it had been before, and very, very difficult to navigate without a guide or a helpful stranger to point out the way.

The only areas familiar to him were near the center, the heart, but even then the shops changed hands and functions so many times he could only guess at what they would be when he arrived. If fighting were to break out then he would be lost and trapped, and Dedue would be very displeased. He would not stay long, just long enough to purchase a new set of boots and, perhaps, a new dagger. And sweets, for the little ones. It seemed he could only ever coax them out of their beast bodies with sweets.

He hoped he had enough money for that, the children would be terribly disappointed if he came back empty handed. He thought he might, but it was always hard to say when the prices always fluctuated between his visits. Whatever money he had he’d collected from lost hunters and travelers that had perished in the snow, too foolhardy or perhaps too desperate to heed the weather and stay home in a blizzard. He felt guilty about it, but it would only go to waste buried under the snow. Whoever he’d found last must have been very rich indeed; perhaps that was why he’d been fleeing. He was desperate to get away from whatever horrors were about to strike this small city. 

Well, he supposed he also got some of his coin from the bandits who roamed the mountain roads in search of easy prey. He did not feel so bad about that, but there’d also been fewer and fewer over the years, so his primary income was still plucked off of dead travelers.

The boots were easy, it seemed as though every other shop was selling boots and weapons. The sweets were much harder to find. He wandered through the streets lost in thought, wondering what had become of that little sweets shop in Fhirdiad—if it was still there or if it, too, had changed hands and functions so many times like the shops in this town—when he stopped cold in his tracks.

There was a man on the streets with a collection of canvases, with one in particular on display. The painting, it… well, it looked like  _ him.  _ A tall, blonde figure stood proudly, with a gaggle of four small beasts milling about his feet, one swaddled in his arms, and one larger one curled behind him. Perhaps not an exact likeness, the hair was well past his knees, far longer than he ever allowed his to grow, and the eyes seemed more purple than blue. It was also just a bit too… ethereal, to really be him? The figure’s hair floated around his back, and he was completely barefoot, but it was still impossible to mistake the subject for anyone else.

“Excuse me… That painting… what is it?” he asked the man—the artist? Was he peddling his wares on the streets, attempting to scrounge up what little cash he could to hunker down or escape?

“You must not be from around these parts.”

“You could say that.”

“She’s a folk legend around here. The Mother of the Beasts.”

His eyes nearly bulged out of his head. Him..? A legend?

“What does she do?”

The man shrugged. “They say she uses her herd of beasts to protect the mountains from poachers and bandits. I guess it must be true, I’ve never seen a bandit come back down from the mountain.”

He flushed. Oh… He’d just been trying to help, he did not think he would be turned into… into some kind of folktale. He eyed the painting again. Aside from a few small details, like Dedue’s gold eyes or Dimitri’s taller stature, it was a striking likeness. He’d even managed to capture the otherworldly glow of their little ones’ purple eyes.

“May I buy it?”

He took whatever money he had left in his pockets and shoved it all into the man’s hands.

* * *

He made it all the way back home before they realized he was there, clutching the painting in his hands as delicately as he could. He’d been given a cloth to protect it, but it would be rather useless if he accidentally tore or crushed it. He could just see the entrance of their little home poking out between the trees and the foliage they’d used to camouflage it.

Okay perhaps  _ little  _ was an understatement. The facade of their home was rather small, but he’d built it into the side of the cliff. This entrance was just big enough for him and the children (provided they were in their human bodies) to fit through. Dedue entered from a safely hidden entrance elsewhere, one that was big enough to accommodate him. On the other side of the door was a massive cave, big enough for all six of them and then some.

The little ones—all four of them—rushed out to meet him, but quickly dispersed, tails swishing, when they realized he didn’t have any treats for them. Relieved that he was safe, but disgruntled and betrayed that their mother had returned without their expected sweets.

“I’m sorry, next time I go, okay?”

Dedue was inside, curled up on the soft bed of leaves and sapling trunks he’d constructed to keep them off the ground as they slept. He was trying to appear casual, as if he’d just woken up from a nap, but the scuff marks and disturbed dust on the cave’s floor indicated that he’d been pacing while Dimitri was gone.

As soon as he was inside he let the cloth fall away from the canvas and he held out the picture for him.

“Dedue! Look!”

He could already see the question in his eyes.  _ Where did you get that? _

“Someone in town was selling it… Dedue, it’s us, see?” Dedue lying behind him, tail curled around his feet, four of their little ones surrounding them, and the smallest cradled in his arms. “I… I thought… you know, it would be the closest thing to a family portrait we would ever get…”

Dedue fixed him with that calm, unyielding gaze, but it was not accusatory or judgmental. He seemed to know that Dimitri was just on the verge of bursting into tears, from joy or from the overwhelming, crushing weight of it all… not even he himself knew.

He dug out a few old nails and tacked them to the wood, placing the picture high and safely out of the reach of the children. With that finished Dedue came up behind him and curled around him, resting his snout on his paws by Dimitri’s knees. He slid down so his back was against Dedue’s side and snaked his arms around his husband’s neck.

“Apparently we’re a folktale, now. I wish I’d had more time to ask about it, but I didn’t want to stay too long and worry you.”

Dedue didn’t respond beyond a soft little flick of his tail. He turned his face into his scaly neck and hummed a contented little sigh against warm skin.

“I think there is trouble brewing. If we are to move further into the mountains again then we need to do it soon, before I…” he trailed off. Dedue raised his head quickly, fixing him again with that discerning look. His eyes shifted between Dimitri and the portrait, and he simply thumped his tail on the ground five times. A question. Five children, then?

He hadn’t told Dedue yet because he knew his husband would never allow him to go into town while he was pregnant. He returned Dedue’s gaze with the biggest grin he could muster.

Dedue stuck his wet tongue out and licked the side of his face, and the ground vibrated in time with his purrs.

There may be no more Fhirdiad, or Faerghus, or even Fodlan… but he had this. His little family tucked away in the mountains. And what a strange, beautiful little family they were.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> People showed some interest in a little epilogue, so I figured why not ^.^ Hope everyone enjoyed reading!

**Author's Note:**

> I'd originally had another chapter as kind of an epilogue thing, but I decided to scrap it for the time being because I think this works perfectly well as a stand alone. Maybe if there's interest I can add it later.


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